Drifter went through his morning routine as usual, settling into his favorite sofa. His gaze fell on the book Luna Sabriel had given him. Today marked his final Alcherider session—he was confident enough now to navigate the streets on his own.

  Luna greeted him with her characteristic unreadable expression. In the simution room, she gestured for him to sit beside her, directing his attention to the simuted street ahead. The controls felt natural now, far simpler than the rune-control sticks of his past. Everything responded to intuitive hand movements: circur motions to turn, swipes for ne changes, push-pull for speed control, and a palm-down gesture for braking. Though the vehicle could operate autonomously, Drifter preferred manual control.

  Their session was interrupted when Alina burst in, searching for Lorcan, Sloane, and Reine—they'd skipped css. The group's investigation led them to Alma, who mentioned overhearing talk of a bet. The trio had been challenged to kill the sealed Grimwarden Revenant in Urendha Cave.

  Drifter noticed Alma's usual cheerfulness had dimmed, her smile faint. Even Nadia, her constant companion, was absent. They'd grown apart, each drawn into different circles and activities. The observation stirred something in Drifter—what had changed between them?

  Alina's expression darkened as she expined the stakes: breaking the seal would unleash an undead horde. Without hesitation, Drifter, Alina, Jaxon, and Luna rushed to the cave, dread coiling in Drifter's chest.

  Deep within, surrounded by purple runes etched into stone walls, they found the trio—alive, but barely. Battered and trembling, they faced an army of ghostly, skeletal creatures. The seal was broken.

  Without hesitation, Drifter lunged forward, his spectral swords slicing through the undead. Alina followed, her ice greatsword cleaving through the horde. From the back, Luna’s ice magic froze and disrupted their advance, while Jaxon glided effortlessly, fire trails sparking beneath him. His twin bowguns unleashed a relentless storm of crimson projectiles, cutting down any undead that strayed too close to Luna.

  The undead retaliated with dark miasma bsts, shadowed energy sshes, and raking cws. Overseeing them all stood the Grimwarden Revenant—a towering beast of bckened bone and armor, its void-dark skull exuding an eerie presence.

  As the team pushed forward, the revenant's minions fought with unrelenting fury. The revenant itself swung its greatsword, dark energy surging through its bde, unleashing shockwaves that tore through the battlefield.

  The battle raged on until Drifter’s sword struck its head, Jaxon’s explosive shot detonated and Luna’s frost bst struck all at once—bringing the Grimwarden Revenant crashing down.

  Relief flooded Drifter only when he confirmed the trio's survival, but anger quickly followed. Alina's voice cut sharp and furious, her words heavy with disappointment. For the first time, Drifter felt genuine rage toward them. The situation echoed his time with the Order, where survival was paramount. Risking lives for a meaningless bet seemed beyond comprehension.

  "We're sorry," they apologized, voices ced with remorse. Yet doubt lingered. While Reine appeared to have simply followed along, Lorcan admitted he and Sloane had initiated the bet. But were they truly repentant?

  That night, Drifter y awake, fingers curling against his sheets. Had he truly adapted to this era? The emotions churning in his chest—worry, anger, relief—felt foreign yet familiar. When he'd thought they might die, fear had gripped him. Their safety brought relief. Yet anger persisted, keeping sleep at bay until exhaustion finally cimed him.

  As he woke up and went through his morning routine, preparing to head outside, he gnced at the calendar—28th Avesia, the fifth month. Ascension Day.

  Stepping outside, he found the academy grounds eerily silent, save for the distant prayers drifting through the air, commemorating the First Celestial Sentinel’s escape from Celestria—the day she freed countless sves from the grasp of the Holy Empire of Selvaria.

  Curious about the city's celebrations, Drifter headed to the alcherider parking lot. In the courtyard, he spotted Reine and Vaeloria on a garden bench, surrounded by vibrant flowers and oval-shaped automatons. Their conversation drew his attention.

  "I don't know what I would've done without you," Vaeloria murmured.

  "I-It's no problem, Ria. If you're not feeling well, I can take over again," Reine replied.

  "Thank you so much, Reine. I'm really sorry... you're a lifesaver," Vaeloria sighed.

  Just as Drifter was about to greet them, a familiar voice cut through the air.

  "Not feeling well again? Funny... I saw you at the mall yesterday. You looked perfectly fine," Lorcan said, his tone sharp as he moved toward Reine and Vaeloria.

  Vaeloria's expression tensed slightly, but she kept her voice light. "Don't go making wild accusations. I was at home resting all day."

  "How convenient. You get sick just in time for the city's big sale," Lorcan scoffed.

  "W-Wait, she was at the mall? But... I thought..." Reine hesitated.

  "That's so mean! I really was sick. I wanted to go to school, but... what else could I do?" Vaeloria protested.

  "Hah, just an excuse. Next time, I'll snap a photo," Lorcan muttered.

  "It's fine. I'll take care of it," Reine said softly.

  "See? Reine doesn't mind. Thanks a lot, Reine. Bye!" Vaeloria waved, her steps graceful as she walked toward the exit. She spotted Drifter, winked pyfully, and waved. "Bye~"

  Drifter only nodded, then looked at Reine. The weight of the situation hung heavy in the air.

  Lorcan sighed, grabbing a handful of seedlings. "Man, I came here on my day off to back you up, and you let her off that easily?"

  "You didn't have to, Lorcan. Sorry... you should just go home," Reine said, using telekinesis to prepare the soil.

  "Come on, stop treating me like a stranger. I'll help." Lorcan knelt beside him. "You're way too nice, Reine. If you keep this up, people will just take advantage of you."

  "Sorry... I didn't mean to trouble you," Reine murmured.

  Drifter observed quietly. Reine often trailed behind Lorcan and Sloane, always eager to help—but there was a weight to him, something unspoken.

  As Drifter stepped in to assist, Lorcan gnced up. "Oh... thanks again for yesterday. And... sorry," he said, unusually serious.

  It caught Drifter off guard. Lorcan usually joked around or threw out a casual "old man." This felt different—was he genuinely reflecting on what happened?

  "It's fine. Just don't do it again," Drifter replied with a faint smile.

  Reine insisted Drifter didn’t need to help, but Drifter persisted. Eventually, as they finished up, Lorcan cpped his hands together. "Alright! As thanks, let me guide you around the city tomorrow."

  Reine then extended an invitation to dinner at his home. Drifter initially refused, but Reine remained firm—and Lorcan backed him up, proudly extending the offer as well. Seeing their enthusiasm, Drifter gave a small nod.

  Later, in the underground parking lot, Drifter rode his Zenith Alcherider as Reine and Lorcan joined him. Lorcan casually mentioned that his Alcherider was still in repair from yesterday’s crash—though whether he was joking remained unclear

  After a moment, he gnced over. "Mind if we stop by Sloane's pce first?"

  Drifter gave a nod, and they set off. As they entered Nethia City, the usual bustle had faded, repced by a hushed stillness. The distant echoes of prayers drifted through the streets as groups in white robes made their way toward the faith temples to worship the Creator. Drifter hadn’t expected the city to feel so solemn. Even more surprising was the revetion that Sloane’s family managed the Nethia Faith Grand Temple—something he hadn’t seen coming.

  Near the academy, the grand temple teemed with white-robed worshippers, their voices rising in solemn harmony. Drifter paused, momentarily struck by the crystalline spire gleaming under the sunlight. Inside, cool air wrapped around them as colored light from stained gss windows danced across the polished floor. He traced the intricate carvings along the walls, their detail mesmerizing.

  A short-haired man in white approached in the main worship area. His familiar exchange with Lorcan quickly made it clear—An Gast, Sloane’s father. When An invited them to pray, they accepted. Drifter hesitated, wondering how long it had been since he st prayed in a temple. Surely before Paxluma’s fall.

  Then, Sloane arrived, his widened eyes betraying surprise at the gathering. After Lorcan’s invitation, he turned to his father.

  "See you ter, old man," Sloane said, giving An a quick wave and light kiss on the hand.

  An shook his head affectionately. "Take care, noodle."

  As they headed for the door, Sloane gnced at Drifter. "What's the special occasion? Even you're coming along, Drifter?"

  "Got bored. Thought I'd tag along," Drifter replied.

  Lorcan shot a teasing look at Reine. "Look at him talking like a normal person now. Remember when he sounded like a wind-up automaton?"

  Reine's soft chuckle carried from behind.

  Their tour continued with Lorcan leading the way. The Central District carried an official air, lined with government buildings, the academy, hospitals, and an untouched central park. The Nethia Grand Hall stood out, its intricate design contrasting the sharp geometry of the surrounding structures.

  When Lorcan mentioned the area’s reservation for the upcoming festival, Drifter simply nodded.

  Downtown felt livelier—shorter buildings, fshing billboards, and cafés staffed by cute maid automatons. People wove through X-shaped intersections as residential apartments blended seamlessly with commercial and entertainment hubs.

  Watching the crowd, mostly humans and golden elves, Drifter turned to Lorcan. “So, what do most people do for work?”

  Lorcan hesitated with a shrug, but Sloane answered from the backseat. “A lot work for the government—hospitals, city offices. Some join big corporations, others run their own businesses.”

  He gestured out the window. “See that? That’s Skygate Tech—they make Alcheriders. Over there’s Magitronix, they handle Lumina Cores and Magisterial Consoles. Rindos supplies food and agriculture. Aurelica Trust handles finances, Levana’s big on fashion, and MystArc dominates entertainment.”

  Drifter nodded, absorbing the details. Their next stop was the residential district—Tranquil Grove. Life thrived here, pet owners strolling among lush greenery and buildings of varying design.

  Lorcan pointed ahead with a grin. “There it is.”

  Drifter followed Lorcan’s gaze to the unkempt two-story house, its abandoned state raising an unspoken question.

  He gnced at Lorcan, who remained confident and resolute, but Drifter couldn’t help but wonder. Does his family still live here? It doesn’t look like anyone’s been home for a while… He kept his thoughts to himself.

  They moved past the garden-encircled Natura Feld Complex before reaching Eirda Terrace, where the grand homes reminded Drifter of Friedrich’s residence.

  The Commercial and Entertainment District came next, a mix of indoor and outdoor spaces with the Eirda River flowing through metallic bridges. The district buzzed with activity—gyms, pools, theaters, and sports venues, including Spectra duel arenas, Evoball fields, and Alcherider tracks.

  Lorcan and Sloane pyfully argued over whether to watch Zero-G ball or racing.

  Drifter checked his Lumina Core—14:14—then gnced at Reine, who remained quiet. His calm demeanor made him wonder how he fit so effortlessly with the group.

  "What if Reine picked?" he suggested.

  After a pause, Reine hesitated. "Eh... how about we go to my pce? It’s getting te."

  "Alright! Let’s py Spectra!" Lorcan excimed.

  Sloane covered his ears, either joking or genuinely annoyed. Drifter, unfamiliar with Spectra, simply nodded as they headed to Reine’s home.

  In Halcyon Heights, they parked in the public lot. The district’s rectangur houses shared a uniform style, resembling Tranquil Grove but quieter. Reine’s two-story home had a small balcony overlooking a tidy garden.

  A petite girl with golden twin ponytails and pointy ears greeted them at the door. “Mama! Reine is home! And... oh, there’s Sloane and Lorcan. And… uh…?”

  Inside, they met Reine’s mother—a woman with golden bobbed hair and green eyes—who studied Drifter curiously. The white walls dispyed family photos of Reine, an older sister, the little girl, a blue-fringed bearded man, and their mother. Thoughtfully pced furniture and flowers gave the home a welcoming warmth.

  "And who might you be?" Reine’s mother asked.

  "This is Drifter, Mom. He’s an Order member stationed at the academy," Reine expined.

  Drifter gave a small bow. "Good afternoon, ma’am."

  She smiled. "A pleasure to meet you. You seem far more mature than these two," she said, gesturing at Lorcan and Sloane.

  Reine’s room reflected his personality—blue and white wallpaper, stacks of books, and various Magisterial Consoles neatly arranged. As he activated one, a rge holographic dispy flickered to life.

  "Ever pyed Spectra before, Drifter?" Lorcan teased.

  "No," Drifter replied simply.

  "Watch us first, old man," Lorcan smirked. "Let's do 2v2! Reine's with me!"

  "Alright, give me a sec," Reine said, focused on the console.

  "I'm sitting this one out. My money's on you two losing," Sloane commented zily.

  "Oh, just wait. When we win, you're gonna owe us big time!" Lorcan retorted.

  The screen transformed into a blue-hued virtual arena resembling a simution nexus. Lorcan and Reine appeared virtually, facing two female opponents across a volcanic ndscape. As they summoned creatures and cast spells, their summoned beings cshed with explosive force.

  "What are they even pying? Leading an army? It feels more like a tactical simution," Drifter mused.

  "Pretty much. It's a mix of strategy and combat. You summon creatures, cast spells, and use five Hero Cards to crush your opponents. Matches can be 1v1, 2v2, or even 3v3 if you're up for it," Sloane expined.

  Drifter observed the game, noting Reine’s precise movements and deliberate decisions—so unlike his usual hesitant self. When Reine's turn came, his floating orb, glowing in a yellow-bck-bck sequence, shattered instantly. A surge of energy manifested a blue phoenix.

  "Solth, the Searwind Archon, attack!" Reine commanded.

  The phoenix's direct strike secured their victory, prompting Lorcan's celebratory leap. "Yes! We did it! Ranked up, finally!”"

  "'We'? Let's be real, Reine carried you," Sloane ughed.

  "Hey, my 'fake losing' strategy was genius," Lorcan grinned.

  "Sure, let's go with that," Reine smirked faintly, carefully packing his Hero Cards.

  "Alright, big shot. Let's see what you've got in a Friendly Match," Sloane challenged.

  "Fine! Just don't start crying when I win," Lorcan replied dramatically.

  Drifter's gaze lingered on the photos in the corner—young Reine with Vaeloria at Eldoria Public School, and a more recent graduation shot with Lorcan and Sloane at Nethia Public School. The contrast between Reine and Vaeloria’s past closeness and their current distance was striking.

  That evening, dinner was peaceful. The fvors were familiar yet distinct—more herbal and slightly sweet, despite the dish being an Elysium specialty: rice with Herb-Crusted Game Hen. The essence of Elysium’s cuisine was there, yet something felt different. Maybe it was because his mother hadn’t been a native of the Neutral Zone, he mused.

  As dinner wrapped up, conversation flowed easily, filled with lighthearted banter between Lorcan and Sloane. Reine, as always, listened more than he spoke, but there was a quiet contentment in his demeanor.

  Stepping outside, the golden light of the setting sun bathed the streets of Nethia City.

  "Thanks for the invite, Reine. Dinner was great," Sloane said.

  "Thank you for having me. It was... a good evening," Drifter added.

  "Thanks, Reine! That was awesome. Let's do it again soon," Lorcan chimed in.

  "Yeah. Take care, guys," Reine responded.

  "The old man's hooked on Spectra. He just won't admit it," Lorcan teased.

  "Oh, of course, Master Lorcan. Teach me your legendary ways," Drifter smirked.

  "Master? More like the master of losing streaks," Sloane countered.

  After declining Drifter's offer for a ride, Lorcan and Sloane waved goodbye. Later, lying in bed, Drifter smiled faintly at the ceiling. Living here isn't so bad at all, he thought before drifting off.

  The next morning's academy message jarred Drifter from sleep:

  From: AcademyTo: Drifter, Lorcan, Sloane, Reine, VaeloriaSubject: Frontier Outpost Shift Schedule – 30th Avesia (5th Month) – 6th Ingrith (6th Month)

  His eyes narrowed as he read the message. The Frontier Outpost—the boundary to Area Zero. This might be his chance to gather intelligence, to see what y beyond the borders they'd kept him from. Might be best to scout there, he thought.

  After finishing his morning routine, he settled onto the sofa to review the translocator's instructions once more. As the one who would lead these novices, he was now responsible for operating it and needed to understand every detail. The device was restricted to mission use, relying on an experimental leyline teleport system that, if overused, could be harmful to the environment.

  However, it could only transport biological beings, utilizing their own Evocyte energy to facilitate the transfer between translocators. This process temporarily converts the user into leyline energy, allowing them to travel across the leylines. There are limitations on personal equipment that can be converted to leyline energy, as the user's Evocyte energy isn't enough to transport heavy or complex machinery.

  Before activation, the device would confirm the user’s identity. Once verified, they simply needed to select a destination from the avaible translocator network. These translocators were scattered across Verm, enabling travel within its boundaries. The device had a fixed range and was vulnerable to Arcane Network Disruptors, as it operated through the same leyline system as the Arcane Network itself, making it highly susceptible to interference.

  Satisfied that he understood the process, he exhaled and set the device aside. No point in overthinking it now. Rising from his seat, he grabbed his coat and stepped out of his quarters.

  As he crossed the courtyard, he spotted Lorcan, Sloane, and Reine walking together. They waved him over, their faces brightening at his approach.

  "Drifter! Over here!" Lorcan called out.

  He joined them, falling into step as they bantered about the upcoming mission. Lorcan and Sloane joked as always, their ughter carrying across the courtyard.

  "How about a free lunch if Ria skips again?" Sloane said, nudging Lorcan with her elbow.

  "Not taking that bet," Lorcan replied with a chuckle. "That's practically guaranteed."

  Reine smiled softly but said nothing, his eyes occasionally darting to Drifter, gauging his reactions.

  The conversation flowed easily until Lorcan suddenly stopped, exchanging a conspiratorial gnce with the others.

  "Hey, Drifter," he said, voice dropping to a whisper. "Want to see something cool? Our secret spot."

  "Are you skipping css?" Drifter asked, raising an eyebrow.

  Sloane ughed. "No, we just want to show you something quickly. Won't take long."

  Curiosity piqued, Drifter followed as they led him toward the research center garden. Behind the neatly trimmed hedges stood an abandoned building, its stone walls covered in ivy and moss. Despite its dipidated appearance, Drifter could see signs of recent use—cleared pathways, a makeshift door that hung properly on its hinges.

  "Welcome to base camp," Lorcan announced proudly, sweeping his arm in a grand gesture. "We cimed this pce st term. Nobody comes here but us."

  "Our own little sanctuary from academy politics," Sloane added, leaning against the doorframe.

  Drifter nodded. Academic politics? He was sure it actually meant escaping Alina’s grasp—or skipping altogether.

  As they walked back toward the Academic Wing, his mind still lingered on the conversation. But then, something caught his eye—a lone figure beneath a sprawling oak in the Research Center Garden.

  Luna sat with her back against the trunk, speaking into the holographic interface of her lumina core. Drifter started to approach, intending to greet her, but paused when her words drifted to him.

  "Don't worry, Grandmaster... I'll update the report if he shows any change."

  Drifter froze mid-step, his expression hardening. There was no doubt who "he" referred to. The warmth that had begun to build within him over the past days instantly crystallized into ice.

  So that's how it is, he thought bitterly. All this time... she was just the grandmaster's pawn, even now, they still see me as a threat.

  His fists clenched at his sides as suspicion gnawed at him.

  Was all this kindness merely an eborate trap to keep him here, docile and contained?

  Drifter turned away without greeting Luna, his face a careful mask as he rejoined the others. But the transformation hadn't gone unnoticed. Lorcan and Sloane's ughter died the moment they saw his expression.

  The two exchanged worried gnces. Sloane subtly shook her head, while Lorcan shrugged slightly as if to say, "How should I know?"

  Only Reine remained perfectly still, his eyes carefully studying Drifter. He recognized the shift immediately—the way he carried himself, the distance in his eyes.